


Mixed Bag (of Tricks)

by QueenOfTheQuill



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen, I have no idea where exactly this is going yet, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, but I don't know with whom yet, there will be relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfTheQuill/pseuds/QueenOfTheQuill
Summary: Ariel Owens was not looking to go to Middle Earth. She didn't want to go, she didn't want to stay, and a day ago, she would have told you that it was impossible anyway.She's also ready to strangle her roommate for getting her into this mess, witch or no.





	1. Chapter One: The World's Worst Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid heroine gets her ass dropped into Middle Earth and is understandably reluctant to believe what's happening. She also might strangle her roommate, if given a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's another Girl Falls into Middle Earth fic. (Technically, two girls.) What can I say? I'm a bit trash for this trope and I decided to finally contribute to the pile.
> 
> Heads up, I’m mixing book and movie canon because my memory is garbage and I can’t remember what came from where. Also, I like certain aspects of each.
> 
> I don't own anything but my own OCs, as per usual. (If I did, I wouldn't be nearly as worried as I am about The Future™.)

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” my dad asked me. “I know your roommate can be kind of…” He trailed off, looking for a diplomatic way to phrase it.

“Creepy?” I supplied. “I mean, yeah, but I don’t think Natalie’s _dangerous_ or anything. She just, you know. Thinks witchcraft is real. And is also an asshole roommate who never does her share of the chores. That’s the part that annoys me more, honestly.”

“Well, just let me know if you need me, sweetheart,” Dad told me earnestly. “I’m only an hour and a half away, I’ll come get you.”

“I know, Dad.” I grinned at him. “But I made it through freshman and sophomore year, I’m pretty sure I can make it through junior year. Even with a weird, rude roommate. I’ll just spend a lot of time in the library.”

“Not too much,” Dad cautioned me. “Get out, too. Join a club. I bet they have an animu club somewhere.”

I groaned, dramatically thunking my head against my seat. “Ok, first, it’s anime, Dad. Second, for once, that actually was a phase. I haven’t watched anime since middle school.” Ok, and maybe high school a little.

There was a glint in Dad’s eyes that said he knew exactly what he was saying. “Join something, Ari. Meet people. Get away from your… _odd_ roommate.”

“Ok, Daddy.” I leaned over the gearshift to hug him. “I love you. I’ll see you at Thanksgiving!”

“You’re making the turkey,” he called as I got out of the car. I just laughed and shook my head, shutting the door behind me. I was terrible at cooking, so there was no way that was going to happen.

I stood on the dorm steps, waving to my dad and watching as dark clouds gathered in a swirling mass. My eyebrow furrowed as I stared at them. I hoped Dad would make it home before the storm. He’d dropped me off earlier than planned in order to avoid it, but it was gathering faster than the weather reports had originally predicted. I shrieked as the skies suddenly opened up, pouring rain down on my head, and darted inside. Hitching my backpack higher on my shoulder, I stared out of the windows at the storm until thunder began to rumble ominously. _Well that was sudden_ , I thought to myself as I climbed the half flight of stairs to my dorm room. Well, the dorm room I shared with the world’s worst roommate, Natalie.

Look, it wasn’t even the witchcraft thing. I was on the Internet, I knew NeoPagan people existed and that they weren’t all Satan worshippers, or whatever else a conservative preacher might call them. In fact, there was a perfectly nice girl in one of my English classes last year who wore crystals and told me a little about her service to Athena. I knew that some people believed that stuff, even if it wasn’t for me, and I was happy to let them do their own thing, as long as they allowed the same for me.

What I _did_ mind about Natalie was the fact that she was a slob (who I had talked to multiple times about keeping her mess on her side of the room), she had already gone through a long string of boyfriends without ever asking or giving me warning when they were over (I knew things about her that I did not ever want to know), and she just generally thought that her wishes were the most important things in the universe.

So, you know, the _normal_ roommate problems.

I jiggled the door handle and found it locked, so I put down my laundry bag to grab my keys. “I’m coming in!” I announced, in case Natalie had another “guest” over. “Did you get my text that I was coming b-” I froze just inside the doorway.

There was a giant symbol on the floor that looked like it was painted on the hardwood. Goodbye school security deposit. Candles, crystals, and other things I couldn’t identify were arranged around it and something pungent was burning in a metal bowl. Natalie, dressed like she was cosplaying someone from Game of Thrones, was seated off center inside the circle. In the middle was another metal bowl with a fire in it, which she was dropping something into.

“Natalie, what the fuck? We can’t light anything on fi- IS THAT MY COPY OF _THE HOBBIT_?!”

A few things happened at once. I dropped my laundry bag and surged forwards, hands extended to either save my book from the fire or strangle Natalie; a huge clap of thunder shook the building; the electric lights went out; and my well-worn copy of J.R.R. Tolkein’s _The Hobbit_ touched the fire.

At first, I thought the glow was lightning or the lights coming back on, but then it lasted way too long and got way too bright to be either. I shielded my eyes, glad that I had already dropped my laundry outside the circle, because I certainly would have dropped it then and I didn’t want even _more_ of my stuff on fire.

Before the light even faded from my vision, I was falling.

I had barely started screaming when I hit the ground and got the breath knocked out of me. When I got it back, all I could do was groan, raising a hand to my head. I had a _splitting_ headache, though whether it was from the light or the fall I didn’t know. “Natalie, what the fuck did you do?” Did she explode our floor? Were we currently laying on the remains of the people in the dorm below us? But no, my hand was touching grass, not rubble. Maybe she blew us out the side? But then what happened to the storm? Finally, I decided to just open my eyes and find out.

Opening my eyes didn’t help my headache, but I was distracted by the sight of a forest. My dorm was not anywhere near a forest. Hell, my _campus_ was nowhere near a forest.

“Amazing,” I said, addressing the trees in a wondering, sarcastic tone. “My idiotic roommate blew something up hard enough to give me a concussion. Or maybe I’m in a coma. Or hallucinating.” What _was_ she burning, anyway?

Gently moving individual parts of my body, I finally decided that nothing was broken and that I could probably sit up.

“Wow. I am hallucinating way harder that I thought.” I was surrounded by trees, which stretched out seemingly endlessly in every direction. I couldn’t really tell, because of all the foliage, but it seemed like it was late evening, at the earliest. There was nothing to indicate that I was anywhere near a path or anything else that might mean people. My backpack, which had slipped off in the fall, lay a few feet away from me. Natalie lay a few feet in the other direction and she didn’t look like she was conscious, though I could see her breathing.

Rolling my eyes, I crawled over to check on her. Her pulse was fairly steady when I checked it and she didn’t have any lumps on her head. Her eyelashes fluttered as I pulled my fingers free of her hair, so I just scooted a little bit away, sat back on my hands, and waited.

Natalie’s eyes fluttered opened and she stared at the trees above her. I braced myself for hysterics or a fainting spell or something else equally panicky. Instead, she grinned and shot upright. “It worked!”

“You did this on _purpose?!”_ I demanded in return, uncomfortably shrill, even to my own ears. I worked hard to tone it down and tamp down on the panic. She whirled to face me, having obviously not noticed me until then. “What _did_ you do, Natalie?”

“Wait, why did _you_ come? You weren’t supposed to come!” She scowled at me. “This is my adventure, go find your own.”

“Well your ‘adventure’ just dropped me into a forest from like seven feet in the air”—at least, it appeared to have done that; I hadn’t given up on the coma or hallucinating theories yet—“so I’d really appreciate an explanation!”

Natalie huffed and crossed her arms. “I transported myself into _The Hobbit_ of course. It took a lot of preparation and power build up and _you_ certainly weren’t supposed to come.”

I just stared at her. She thought she’d done… what? Then, I began to laugh. “Ok. Definitely in a coma or hallucinating then. Or else we got knocked out and kidnapped and you’re actually certifiable. Good to know.”

She huffed again, obviously put out. “I’m not certifiable, _Ariel_.” I gritted my teeth at the way she said my full name. “For your information, I came up with this spell myself. I’ve been working on it since last year. I’m just glad I didn’t have to burn my _own_ copy of _The Hobbit_. I really like my copy.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “I liked _my_ copy of-! Ok, so not the point. You honest-to-God think you transported us into _The Hobbit_?”

“Well of course, because I did.” She stood up and began brushing herself off. I had new opportunity to appreciate her weird get up and realized that my earlier assessment wasn’t far off.

“Are you wearing a Daenerys Targaryen cosplay?”

I saw Natalie’s cheeks pink a little. “No,” she said defensively.

“You totally are!” I said, surging to my own feet. “Even if we were in Middle Earth, which we’re _not_ , you know they don’t dress like Game of Thrones people, right? Especially not Khaleesi. You’re not even blonde!”

“Well how would you know? You don’t believe in Middle Earth!”

“That’s because it’s _fictional_ ,” I hissed. “Instead, you’ve just gotten us lost in the woods somehow or knocked me on the head hard enough to make me see things.” A sudden thought struck me. “Maybe I’m dead. Maybe this is Hell. I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

Snorting, Natalie moved to picking leaves and twigs out of her intricately braided auburn hair. “You’re not dead.”

“Yet,” I muttered pessimistically. Ok, so if this was a dream or hallucination… I honestly had no idea how to break it. I didn’t exactly do psychology, or premed. Give me a language any day. I guessed the only thing I had available to do for now was to play along. It would be way less boring than sitting here in the woods, at least. I didn’t even want to consider the fact that Natalie  _ had _ actually done something magical and actually transported us to a forest somewhere (on Earth, obviously, as Middle Earth was fictional), but the ground did feel awfully real and solid. “Well, O All Powerful Magic One, where do we go next then?” I asked, moving to scoop up my backpack. I noticed Natalie scooping up her own bag, one I hadn’t noticed in the brush next to her.

“Um.” Natalie turned to look at the identical trees surrounding us. “Uh. That way.”

“You obviously just pointed at random.” I said flatly.

“I did not! I know we need to go that way. I can  _ sense _ it.”

“How about we come up with a different plan? Like one that involves actual planning?”

“Just because you’re jealous of my power-”

A howl cut off whatever bullshit Natalie had been about to say and we looked at each other, frozen. The howl had come from a little bit to the left of where Natalie had wanted to go and it sounded way too close for comfort. I held my breath, hoping that the wolves would move away. The next howl was much closer.

“I hate you,” I informed Natalie. “Run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite my portrayal of Natalie, I do like witches. I think modern witchcraft is very interesting, even if I don't take part myself.
> 
> I promise I'll actually try and keep up with this. I have a couple more chapters written out already, but I can't promise a clear update schedule. I get impatient/excited and then run out of finished material.


	2. Chapter Two: Leg Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, turns out running for your life sucks a lot.

The terrain of the forest was not made for running. Most of it was hilly crags and rocks, not flat paths. Luckily for us, there was plenty of room for us to move between the trees. Unluckily for us, there was also plenty of room for the wolves.

 

As I ran, only pure stubbornness and spite kept me going, plus a sort of panicky terror that I was desperately clamping down on and channeling into more energy. More than once, I contemplated just letting the wolves catch up and eat me; maybe it would end this stupid coma or hallucination or whatever. Then the howls would start back up and all rationality would flee. Besides, didn’t I read somewhere that if you died in a dream, you died in real life?

 

I thanked every god I could think of that I was wearing running shoes.

 

The evening had long since turned to night and the darkness made it nearly impossible to see where we were going. At one point, Natalie and I reached a stream and I ignored her protests to drag her through it, upstream a ways and then up a tree with low hanging boughs.

 

“Trying… to block… the scent… Confuse them,” I gasped out. “Jump.” I lunged towards the next tree and just managed to catch a branch and haul myself up. Natalie followed and even exhausted, I was annoyed to see that she managed the leap much more easily than me.

 

“Eight years… of gymnastics,” she explained. “Can’t we… stop and rest?”

 

“No. We need… whatever lead… we can get,” I told her grimly. When I leapt for the next tree, I only managed to grab a branch and swing, landing a little ways past it and rolling. Natalie followed and hauled me to my feet. A three-tree gap between us and the river was less than I was hoping for, but it would have to do.

 

We kept running.

 

I wasn’t out of shape, but no one was made to run at nearly full tilt from wolves in the dark over rough ground. At this point, I was pretty much running on adrenaline and fear and I knew that soon, either Natalie or I was going to collapse and then the rest would be history. I barely noticed the sky getting lighter except to tiredly note that I could see where to place my feet more easily.

 

I barely had time to register that I was hearing voices ahead when Natalie and I burst into a clearing full of men, most of whom immediately drew sharp pointy things and pointed them at us. My legs gave out from under me and I saw Natalie sprawl on her own patch of forest floor.

 

“Wolves, please there are wolves! We’ve been running all night.”

 

“You have to help me! I can’t go on!”

 

Natalie and I babbled over each other, which I thought explained their looks of incomprehension, though I heard enough of Natalie’s speech to scowl at her for only mentioning herself. Then, another howl sounded, and suddenly, all the weapons were pointed elsewhere. The smallest man (and I just noticed through my hazy, exhaustion-filled mind that most of these men were far shorter than me) asked something in a small voice. The others answered him. I could hear plain, naked fear in their voices, but couldn’t understand a word they said. I also couldn’t really bring myself to care, just savoring the feeling of not moving my legs.

 

I did care when two Things That Were _Definitely Not Wolves_ burst into the small clearing, snarling. The men wielded their various sharp-and-shinies (I was particularly proud of the bowman, for getting off a fast, close-range shot with enough accuracy to take one of the beasts down) while Natalie and I screamed and shoved ourselves into as much cover as we could find. Both of the beasts were dead in short order.

 

One of the men, with dark hair and a short beard came over and snapped something at Natalie and I. My linguistics training slammed into place, even through the haze, and I started trying to analyze. He was probably either asking who we were, why we were being hunted by Not Wolves, or whether we could get up and I had no way of knowing which one. I spread my hands helplessly and shrugged, hoping that hand gestures, at least, would translate.

 

He grunted in response and stuck out a hand. When I grabbed it, he hauled me to my feet, where my trembling legs just barely supported me. When I glanced over, another of the men was doing the same with Natalie.

 

Now that I stood, I could see that I was at least a head taller than most of the men, which was not exactly common, given that I was 5’6”. The man in front of me pantomimed running and pointed at me, eyebrows raised in a clear question. I set my face in grim lines and nodded. I had come this far and damn if I were going to let a bunch of Not Wolves kill me now. A lot of argument I couldn’t understand was being called around the clearing, but there was no point in trying to parse it out.

 

“We have to keep running?” Natalie asked, desperation plain in her voice and face.

 

“It’s that or get ripped to shreds by _those_ things.” I pointed to one of the Not Wolves as the two tallest men came to some sort of agreement off to the side. One of them got onto a… sleigh drawn by rabbits and zoomed off.

 

It was at this point that I just completely said “fuck it” to logic and reasoning and just tried to focus on staying alive. I took the thoughts that were clamoring in my head (that this whole scene was way too real, that I could never dream up anything as awful as those Not Wolves, that this did look an awful lot like it could be the company of Thorin Oakenshield) and I shoved them into the tiniest unlit back corner closet of my mind and locked them there. _And stay out_. Instead, I focussed on trying to stretch my aching legs and accepting the waterskin that someone held out to me. One of the shorter men, who had a long, white beard divided in two parts, motioned Natalie and I to follow and we all jogged to hide behind a rock outcropping outside the forest’s boundaries, waiting there as I tried desperately not to pass out. I thought my success rather valiant.

 

The howling started up again, much, much too close, but was drawn off when the man on the rabbit sleigh (seriously, what the fuck) burst out of the trees and into an open field. As he led them off, our group began running from outcrop to outcrop, trying to stay hidden from the Not Wolves ( ** _Wargs_ ** , something in my mind whispered to me. I told it to shut up unless it had any useful information on how to stay alive. It shut up.) and their riders, which I could now see.

 

It was halfway through this escape attempt that I realized there was absolutely no team coordination, as the Rabbit Man’s sleigh kept leading the Not Wolf pack to the same places we kept trying to run. I almost started crying from frustration.

 

Added to that, Natalie and I were steadily falling back in the group, from front to middle to back to behind. The tall man in grey ( ** _Gandalf_ ** _. Shut UP!_ ) called something back to us. I just glared, since obviously we couldn’t understand him or do anything about it. He snapped something at two of the ( _not dwarves, they’re not dwarves, don’t even say it_ ) shorter men, one blonde, one dark-haired, who dropped back and scooped Natalie and I up onto their shoulders before resuming speed to keep up with the group. Ordinarily, I would have protested being tossed over someone’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but as it was, I was too tired to care. I shifted so the blonde Definitely Not A Dwarf’s shoulder wasn’t digging into my stomach and tried not to wiggle too much. I marveled at his strength and ability to keep running with someone who had to be nearly as heavy as him on his shoulder.

 

Obviously, something caught our scent at last, because the group raced to put their backs to a rock. I heard something on top of the rock sniffing and did my best to hold my breath. Natalie’s Definitely Not A Dwarf lowered her to the ground and drew an arrow before taking a breath and running the necessary few steps out to shoot the beast and rider. I shoved my hand over my mouth to keep from squeaking as the bodies fell right past my face and were finished off by the others. I saw Natalie do the same as black blood splattered on her face and clothes.

 

The brief clamor drew the attention of the rest of the pack, because life could never be easy, and Natalie and I were left to run on our own again as everyone who had a weapon drew it. I was becoming far too familiar with the word that meant “run” in this other language.

 

We ran more and more and more. The world wore away until all I could see were my feet and the ground beneath them. Several times, somebody had to tug my arm as we changed direction, or I would have just kept going. Eventually we stopped, and even I could tell we were surrounded. Natalie and I were shoved to the middle of the ring of armed men as mounts and riders drew closer.

 

Then, Definitely Not Gandalf’s voice sounded from a nearby rock outcropping and Natalie and I were shoved along with the running horde down into a hole beneath the rock. As soon as my feet hit the dirt, my knees buckled and I collapsed on the floor. Natalie arrived at the bottom in a similar state and we both just lay there, panting. If death came down that hole after me, I would have no choice but to accept it, because I couldn’t move. There was no way I could drag my body another inch. I was using all my strength to cling to consciousness as it was. Even through the haze, some part of my brain noticed Gandalf obviously counting people as they slid down and I made an exhausted mental note of the words. _Ahnt, twen, gûn…_

 

A wonderful horn sound echoed above us, along with many _twings_ and grunts and screams. I sincerely hoped that whoever won killing each other up there wasn’t going to come down here and kill us when they were finished. I didn’t want to move.

 

I changed my mind when a filthy dead body came tumbling down the slope to land on Natalie and I. The only reason I didn’t scream was because my breath had been driven out of my lungs by the sudden weight. I found I suddenly _did_ have some strength somewhere, because I managed to shove the thing off of us while Natalie just cried and looked like she’d given up.

 

_Good_ , I thought viciously. _You’re the one who got us INTO this mess._

 

After a few brief words, the company decided to go down the path at the bottom of the slope. I supported this decision wholeheartedly.

 

Natalie’s and my helpers from earlier returned and hauled us back over their shoulders, grunting at the added weight. I mumbled an apology, but with the immediate danger gone and the fact that I didn’t have to move under my own power apparent, I was struggling to keep a hold on consciousness and found myself slipping in and out as we moved down the path.

 

I _did_ wake up when I was dropped on my ass in the middle of a circle of hostile Definitely Not Dwarves and lay there groaning next to Natalie as a bunch of shouting and arguing I couldn’t understand flew around over my head. This was becoming far too common an occurrence for my taste. As the commotion finally muted to what sounded like civilized conversation, I managed to slowly and painfully haul myself to my feet using someone’s shoulder. I heard the exclamations of surprise as a bedraggled woman arose from the midst of a bunch of warriors. I ignored them to stumble forwards and catch myself on someone’s horse. An arm flashed down to support me and I looked up to thank them out of instinct.

 

The person on the horse was not human. I was finally forced to confront that. Just as I could not possibly have come up with the horribleness of the Wargs or the unfathomable strength of the dwarves in my own mind (and the thing in the back of my brain noted the lack of the word “not” with glee), neither could I have possibly come up with the strange, inhuman beauty of the elves. They were alien and wonderful and I could never have thought them up myself in a thousand years.

 

“Damn it, I believe this is actually happening,” I politely informed the concerned elf who had caught my arm.

 

  
Then I fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I included the warg chase, 1) because I love drama and 2) because I truly believe that Thorin would not have gone to Rivendell unless forced by something (barely) worse than elves.
> 
> I made up the Westron words for one, two, three when Ariel is counting because I couldn’t find canon ones listed anywhere. If anyone knows where I can find them and provides a source, I’ll be happy to change them.


	3. Chapter Three: Toto, I’ve a Feeling We’re Not… Well, You Know the Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after sucks even worse when your night consisted of running for your life followed by an exhausted collapse. Hangovers are starting to look like a dream.

When I awoke, there was no blissful moment of forgetting where I was, like there is in the books or the movies. Although everything that happened the day before (was it only the day before? I wasn’t sure) had a hazy, dreamlike quality to it, I still remembered it. So while I was awed when I opened my eyes and sat up, I wasn’t surprised.

 

The room I was in was beautiful, light and airy. The walls were made of a pale tan stone and the windows were tall and open, letting in late afternoon sunlight and a fresh breeze. The cot I was in was comfortable, but I think after running for a night and half a day, anything would be.

 

I wish I could have really appreciated the beauty, but instead I started hyperventilating.The realization I had come to before passing out was violently reasserting itself. It was… real. I was really in a fucking story book. My roommate was a witch who actually somehow fucking managed to transport herself and me into a place that didn’t exist. I put my head between my knees as I began to have what were probably hysterics.

 

A soothing hand rested itself on my shoulder as I fought with logic and panic and what was right in front of my face. Someone broke the stem of some sort of herb under my nose and the sharp scent broke the cycle of panic in my mind. Eventually, I was able to calm myself down, taking deep, shuddering breaths and scrubbing the tears from my face with my sleeve. Whatever was happening, I had to deal with it, not cry in the corner.

 

When I finally sat up, I found myself confronted with an elf woman (what was that in Tolkein’s books? An elleth?) who was staring at me with obvious concern. Shit. No one here spoke English. I scraped the back of my brain for any vestiges of Sindarin I remembered. Tolkein was the original linguistics god and I had done a project on his made up languages for one of my classes last spring.

 

“Um…  _ im _ ...  _ mae _ ?” I wasn’t exactly sure that  _ mae _ translated to “well” the way I wanted it to, but it was all I could remember that might reassure the elleth that I wasn’t dying.

 

The reaction was instantaneous. Her eyes widened and she sprouted a flurry of questions that I couldn’t even begin to translate. I shook my head quickly, waving my hands in front of me.

 

“No no no no, um. _Mîw ist edhellen,_ ” pretty sure that I had just told her I only had a small knowledge of elvish. I scowled, wishing I had learned more about Sindarin. At the time, I had chosen to do my made up languages project on Tolkein only because I liked _The_ _Lord of the Rings_ when I was younger and because I knew there was a lot of information available. I hadn’t really memorized it. I did remember enough to introduce myself, though. “ _Im_ Ariel _._ ” Casting my eyes about the room, I caught sight of my still-unconscious companion and pointed, adding, “Natalie _._ ”

 

The elleth nodded and said, “ _ Im _ Pelinneth.” She touched her right hand to her left shoulder before moving her hand gracefully away from her body. I tried to copy the gesture as best I could while sitting in what was clearly a hospital bed. Having established that I was not dying, I could practically feel her curiosity, especially about the streak of teal in my shoulder length black hair, and probably about my skin tone, if I was being honest, since everyone around here was super fucking white and even my fawn-colored skin stood out. However, she was too well-mannered to stare, so I didn’t care too much.

 

“ _ Mae g’ovannen _ , Pelinneth.” I had the nagging suspicion that I had just told her it was nice to meet her in the familiar, but I didn’t actually know the formal, or what was appropriate. I had never had to communicate so much in a language I didn’t speak well, and I found that I hated it a lot.

 

Pelinneth, bless her soul, seemed content enough to play along with my stumblings. “ _ Mae g’ovannen _ , Ariel.” She then proceeded to try to ask me a bunch of questions, probably about how I was feeling, but I only understood the word “you” and once, the word “ _ enfeng _ ,” which I knew meant dwarves.

 

“Yes, yes,  _ enfeng _ !” I repeated. “ _ Enfeng… mae _ ?”

 

“ _ Nar in enfeng mae. Madir. _ ”

 

“Cool. I don’t know what most of that means, but it sounded good.”

 

Evidently deciding that pantomime was much easier than testing my extremely shaky grasp of Sindarin, Pelinneth managed to convey that she wanted to give me an exam to see how I was doing. I nodded allowed her to poke at me. When she was finished, I mimed bringing a glass to my lips and she smiled and nodded, grabbing a pitcher and a glass from a nearby table. I greedily gulped nearly half the glass before she managed to tilt it back down, forcing me to take small sips. I glared at her over the rim of the glass, but she only smiled at me pleasantly and didn’t remove her hand until I had finished the rest of the water slowly.

 

Pelinneth moved the glass and pitcher to the table next to my bed and gave me a stern look which I took to mean that if I chugged the water again, she wouldn’t be pleased, and left. I immediately poured myself another glass, though I managed to control myself this time.

 

With nothing better to do, I stumbled over to the windows and gasped when I saw the view. It took me a couple of seconds to push through the wonder and remember the name of the beautiful valley I saw.

 

“Rivendell,” I whispered. “ _ Imladris. _ ”

 

“ _No,_ _nín muin._ ”

 

I whirled to see Gandalf standing in the doorway. Definitely not back to my full strength yet, I nearly fell over and had to catch myself on the windowsill.

 

Gandalf at least had the decency to look contrite. “ _ Goheno nin _ .”

 

“ _ Goheno nin _ ,” I repeated a few times, mimicking his pronunciation until I thought I had it down. “Well I think it’s a pretty safe bet to say that means ‘I’m sorry.’ In which case, don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand in a dismissive way, trying to convey my meaning, then sat on the windowsill, just to make sure that I wouldn’t collapse.

 

“ _ Mae g’ovannen _ ,” he continued. “ _ Im Mithrandir _ .”

 

“ _ Mae g’ovannen, Mithrandir. Im _ Ariel.” I repeated Pelinneth’s earlier bow and tried to hide my panic. Fucking shit. What had my life come to? I’d just introduced myself to  _ fucking Gandalf the Grey _ . Jesus. I felt the hysteria creeping its way back up and shoved it back down to be dealt with later, when I wasn’t staring down one of the most powerful people in this world. Once again pointing at the other bed, I introduced Natalie.

 

In response, I heard her stirring. “Hm? Oh!” She shot straight up in bed. “Oh! Gandalf!” She patted her hair frantically and smoothed her now completely wrecked and dirty cosplay dress. With a surprising amount of grace, Natalie stepped out of her hospital bed and produced a reasonably well-done curtsy. Well. This ought to be interesting, at least. “Gandalf, my name is Natalie Jameson. I am a powerful witch from another world—” I snorted, “—with foreknowledge of your quest, and I humbly request to join your great company on its quest.”

 

“Cool,” I said, forestalling whatever response poor Gandalf might attempt. “Three things.”

 

“I wasn’t talking to-”

 

“THREE THINGS,” I repeated. “One, you used the word quest twice in one sentence. Two, that was a pretty speech, but why on earth would someone take a complete stranger on a trip this important?”

 

“Bilbo-”

 

“-had what amounted to a letter of introduction and a character reference from Gandalf the fucking Grey. And three, I don’t know if you thought this one out, but  _ they don’t fucking speak English here, Natalie _ .”

 

For the first time, Natalie actually looked nonplussed. “I don’t know, maybe they speak Chinese?” she guessed.

 

I gave her a flat look. “Ok, first of all, my mother was Korean. And my Korean is about on par with my Sindarin anyway. Also, they definitely don’t speak it because we’re in  _ motherfucking Middle Earth! _ There  _ is _ no China  _ or _ Korea here! They speak Sindarin, or Westron, or whatever the language the Rohirrim speak. Which, by the way, despite being a language nerd, I only know like ten words in Sindarin and then I’m officially tapped out. We’re stuck in a foreign world where absolutely no one speaks our language. So that’s fun.”

 

Natalie looked absolutely  _ wrecked _ . “But- but I have to go on the quest! That’s why I’m here!”

 

“Yeah, well I doubt that’s going to happen. And I didn’t sign up for this at all. So if you can send us home, now would be a good time.”

 

Slowly, she shook her head. “I made up the spell that brought us here,” she whispered in a small voice. “I didn’t make up one to go back yet. I thought I’d have time and access to Gandalf’s help.”

 

I just stared at her. “If I wasn’t absolutely certain that my knees wouldn’t buckle under me when I put my feet on the floor, I would come over there and throttle you. What do you mean, you didn’t make up one to go back?!”

 

It was at this point that Gandalf’s intervention probably saved Natalie’s life, weak legs or no. He spouted off a few phrases in Sindarin, looking between the two of us. We both looked at him blankly, though my gaze was admittedly more irritated than Natalie’s.

 

“I picked up, like, ‘you,’ ‘elvish,’ and ‘friend,’” I finally said. “No. No  _ mellon _ ,” I told Gandalf, gesturing between Natalie and myself and shaking my head.

 

Gandalf shrugged in a way that seemed to say ‘Well you’re stuck with each other now.’ He tried asking us a few more questions, but I couldn’t understand him any better than I could initially, so he gave up and helped me back to my bed. A little while later, Pelinneth came by with some terrible herb concoctions that actually did seem to revitalize me a little, as well as broth. After that, it seemed us humans were left to our own devices as night fell.

 

“So. What the fuck,” I said to Natalie after our nursemaid was out of the room.

 

“I don’t see why I have to explain myself to you,” she sniffed, taking a delicate sip of her broth.

 

I took a deep breath and sipped my broth instead of throwing the bowl across the room at her. “Because,” I told her through clenched teeth. “It’s your fault that I’m here at all. I didn’t ask to get caught up in your harebrained little scheme to get yourself killed in a fictional world! I didn’t want to be a part of this at all, then or now! And because you decided to come completely unprepared, I’m stranded with no way home. So yeah. You have to explain yourself to me.”

 

Natalie just stared at me, then set her empty bowl aside and rolled so her back was to me. I groaned. “Fine.” I finished my own broth and tucked myself under my sheets, settling in for the night facing the wall.

 

“I just wanted to be somewhere I belonged.”

 

“What?” I rolled over, but Natalie’s back was to me.

 

“Nothing. Go to sleep, Ari.”

 

I rolled my eyes and turned back over. “Whatever.” I heard her light snores start up a few minutes later, but it was full dark before I finally drifted to sleep, wondering what she meant by that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I originally had translations, but then I decided that you all get to be as confused as Natalie and Ariel.
> 
> And also, yes, my linguistics major main character just happened to do a project on Tolkein’s languages, but it’s not really that surprising. Tolkein’s creation of language was legendary and most linguists that I know think it’s at least interesting if not extremely cool. Kudos to Hiswelókë’s Sindarin dictionary, The Council of Elrond’s Sindarin lessons, the elfdict.com dictionary, and the arwen-undomiel.com list of phrases, from which I am pulling all of my elvish. I’m stumbling through as best I can, and making up some things here and there. I am not a linguist.


	4. Chapter Four: The Language Barrier is a Stone Cold Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie and Ari meet Lord Elrond. It is well established that no one speaks the same language.

When I woke in the morning, it was to Pelinneth setting down some food for Natalie and I. This morning, it looked like porridge, some sort of sweet roll, and a small, red apple apiece. Plus that disgusting potion again, which I made a face at before drinking.

 

“Um, thank you, Pelinneth.” I gestured my hands helplessly. “Thank you?”

 

“ _ Guren glassui _ ,” she told me. When I dutifully repeated it, she added, “ _ Na maer _ .”

 

I nodded my thanks, telling her “ _ Guren glassui _ ,” again, but if all I was going to do was trade words with Pelinneth, this language-learning process was going to be slow. Besides, from what I understood about the world, Westron would be far more helpful for me to learn. A lot more people spoke it, including some of the elves. I could move on to Sindarin later, once I had a grasp on Westron.

 

It shocked me to realize that I was planning as if I was going to be here long term, and even more to realize that I  _ had _ to, if I wanted to do anything resembling living here. I was forestalled from trying to figure out how to pantomime a request for language lessons by Pelinneth holding out a few clothing options to Natalie and I, clearly intending for us to get dressed and go somewhere.

 

Looking over what was presented, I decided that a sort of leggings-and-tunic ensemble would probably be the most comfortable and mobile. It was completely unreasonable, but I was paranoid about having to get up and run at any moment. Several times the past night, I woke up, straining to hear howls that weren’t there. I shook the thoughts aside and chose dark grey leggings and a green tunic that looked like they would fit me well enough.

 

Pelinneth left us alone, but after a few months living in the same close quarters, Natalie and I weren’t shy about changing in front of each other, one of the few pros of our roommate arrangement. I even helped her do up the laces on the back of her dress, biting my lip and reminding myself that she was stranded here as much as I was, by choice or not, to avoid strangling her with them.

 

When we exited the room together, I was surprised to find Gandalf waiting for us in the corridor. He said something as he motioned for us to follow, but all I caught was the name Elrond.

 

“He’s taking us to see Lord Elrond?” asked Natalie excitedly. She set off after Gandalf, practically bouncing on her toes, which I don’t know how she managed, since my legs were still screaming at me.

 

“I guess? I don’t know what good he expects it to do, but I suppose it’s only polite to greet your host. Isn’t he supposed to busy with the Company?” I asked as I trailed behind.

 

“You’re thinking movie timeline,” Natalie called over her shoulder. “The company spent a lot of time here in the books.”

 

“Well which did you transport us to?” I asked, jogging a bit to keep up.

 

“Well, I burned the book, so it should be that,” she responded, still looking as happy as though she were bouncing through a field of daisies on a tampon commercial.

 

“I don’t think the wargs chased the Company into Rivendell in the book.”

 

_ That _ made her skip a step, for sure. “No, I guess they didn’t. But this is definitely a book canon timeline. I mean look at it.” She gestured out a window. “It’s clearly early spring. The moon runes on the map can’t be read until Midsummer, under the crescent moon. That’s in the book  _ and _ the movie.”

 

A sudden thought struck me. “Natalie,” I said slowly. “Now, obviously, I’m not the witch here, but… does it make a difference that you burned  _ my _ book?”

 

Natalie’s face drained of color. “Oh no. It might. My power plus your memories, tied up in the book…” She trailed off, muttering to herself.

 

“Natalie?” I prompted.

 

“Right, right. Well, as best as I can guess… this reality is a combination of how the two of us view and remember  _ The Hobbit _ . So… depending on what we thinks happens next, we might be walking into book or movie canon. Plus, us being here at all alters the timeline completely. Even moreso if I go with the Company.”

 

“Hold on, if  _ you _ go with the company?”

 

“Well, yeah.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m a witch. I can offer my power. You don’t really have anything to offer.”

 

“Oh yeah? Well, according to you, how I view the story affects what happens. So what happens when your glorious foresight of the quest fails because of how  _ I _ remember something?” I also wasn’t about to let my only ticket home go waltzing off to be murdered by orcs.

 

Natalie narrowed her eyes at me, but before she had the chance to respond, Gandalf stopped at a set of doors and motioned us to stand next to him. Pointing at the doors, he said clearly. “ _ Hîr Elrond. Hîr nín _ .”

 

“What-” Natalie said.

 

“Well, since  _ Hîr Elrond _ is probably ‘Lord Elrond,’  _ hîr nín  _ is most likely ‘my lord’ in Sindarin. He’s just letting us know the proper forms of address.”

 

I dutifully repeated the words. So did Natalie, after a bit of fumbling with the pronunciation. With that, Gandalf opened the doors and led us into what appeared to be Elrond’s private study. There were plenty of bookshelves, maps, and drawings lining the walls, and I looked around with interest. I always was fond of libraries.

 

Lord Elrond rose from behind a large oak desk and Natalie immediately curtsied and murmured, “ _ Hîr Elrond. _ ” I copied her a beat later, though I opted for a bow in my leggings. He gestured for us to sit across from his desk.

 

As we did, another elf gave a polite knock on the doorframe. Elrond greeted the elf with a smile and waved him in. In his arms were piles of books and scrolls, along with a few quills and an inkwell. The elf took a seat to the side of the desk, between Natalie and Elrond. Gandalf opted to stand by the window, gazing over the grounds.

 

Elrond eyed us for a moment, before asking a question he clearly didn’t expect an answer to. I shrugged and Natalie gave him a blank look. He sighed, then gestured at the other elf.

 

“ _ Mae g’ovannen, _ ” he said enthusiastically. “ _ Im Oliniel _ .”

 

_ “Mae g’ovannen, Oliniel. Im _ Ariel.” I nudged Natalie.

 

“Which part do I say?” she hissed.

 

“ _ Mae g’ovannen  _ is like ‘Nice to meet you,’ or some equivalent.  _ Im _ is ‘I am’ and then your name,” I whispered back.

 

_ “Mae g’ovannen. Im  _ Natalie,” she repeated. Oliniel beamed at the pair of us before dumping his cargo in front of us and spouting off a font of Sindarin that I could in no way comprehend. I looked at him blankly, but he just handed me a book. I shrugged and opened it, staring incomprehensibly at the elvish lettering.

 

“I can’t read this,” I told him, looking back up and handing the book back.

 

“Mm.  _ Û Sindarin. Quenya? _ ” He handed me another book, which looked slightly different, while also spouting off a dialect of elvish that I barely even remembered existed. I opened the book without hope, and had to hand it back, too.

 

We repeated the process with about half a dozen other languages, none of which I recognized, though I suspected  annúnaid/ Adûni and Rohirlam/Leódetunge were Westron and Rohirric. I barely managed to guess Westron when Natalie reminded me of the River Anduin, which sounded close enough to the two names given for the language that I went out on a limb.

 

Eventually, Oliniel gave up on the books and handed me the parchment and quill.

 

“Uh, I guess he wants me to write in English?” I asked Natalie. She just shrugged, clearly as lost as I was, so I wrote down the alphabet (thankfully the same as Westron and Rohirric’s) and  _ My name is Ariel _ and spun the parchment to face Oliniel. “English,” I told him, pointing at the parchment. Pointing at each word, I said, “My. Name. Is. Ariel.  _ Im _ Ariel.”

 

“Mai nahm es Oliniel,” Oliniel repeated, mangling most of the vowels. We repeated this back and forth until he could actually repeat it. We traded a few more names and wrote them down—book, desk, chair, tunic—before I wrote down  _ Soy Ariel _ and told them it was Spanish. After Spanish, we did German. I even wrote down the few words and phrases I knew in Korean before turning to Natalie, who looked bored.

 

“What?”

 

“Well. Do you know any other languages?”

 

“I took French for a while. Here, give me that.” She wrote down a few things in French for Oliniel, who looked a combination of overwhelmed and excited, spouting off something to the others. Gandalf chuckled fondly and I recognized a language-lover in the elf.

 

“Oliniel,” I said, grabbing his attention. “Adûni? Can you teach us Adûni?” I gestured from his head to mine, and then to Natalie’s.

 

Oliniel turned to Elrond, clearly asking him something. Elrond nodded and responded, gesturing at us and the pile of books and Oliniel. When he turned back to us, Oliniel was beaming and nodding. He gathered up his armful of books and papers before sweeping us out of the study, calling something over his shoulder at Lord Elrond and Gandalf.

 

“What’s happening?” hissed Natalie, having clearly been caught off-guard.

 

“Language lessons, I hope. In Westron.” Cutting off her groan, I added, “Look. If you want to go drag yourself along behind the quest, you need to be able to speak at least Westron, or else this is going to go very, very poorly. We need to be able to speak to live.”

 

“Fine, fine. We can learn the stupid language.”

 

We followed Oliniel to what looked like a library, where he spread out a metric fuck ton of books and papers on the desk in front of us.

 

“Well. Shit. This is going to be fun,” I muttered, before sighing and reaching for the parchment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be just a little bit easier than Ariel was expecting, and I promise I will not spend a buttload more chapters on the intricacies of full immersion language-learning.
> 
> According to lotrproject.com and the Wikipedia article about the Shire calendar, the company arrived in Rivendell on April 19th (27 Astron) and left on June 21st (2 Lithe), in the book timeline. This is why so much time seems to pass; because it really should, based on the book.
> 
> There is not a lot of info on Rohan, so I made up both the Sindarin and Rohirric words for Rohirric by combining words that already existed (Rohirlam = horse-lord language in Sindarin, Leódetunge = people tongue in Rohirric).


	5. Chapter Five: Speaking in Tongues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariel wakes from her dream with a new ability and desire to yell at people with lots of power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I left you guys hanging for so long. I'll try to be better about writing, but honestly, it's me, so no promises.

When Natalie and I finally returned to our room in the hospital, my head was swimming, trying to retain a whole new set of words and phrases that I was only 75% sure I had managed to translate right. Natalie flopped on her bed.

 

“This sucks,” she announced, hair and arms splayed above her head on the mattress.   
  


“Should have thought of that before you messed with this shit. Were you expecting sunshine and daisies?”

 

She huffed and propped herself up on her elbows. “Well I was at least expecting them to speak English!”

 

“Why? England doesn’t exist here.” Natalie groaned and flopped back down.

 

“Whatever. Where’s Pelinneth? I’m starving.”

 

As if she’d been summoned, Pelinneth entered the room, carrying another armful of clothes and speaking in slow Westron. I recognized the words for “go,” “dinner,” and “dwarves.”

 

“I’m like 90% sure she’s telling us that we’re going to dinner and that the dwarves are gonna be there.”

 

“Oh thank god, I’m so bored.” Natalie flounced off the bed gracelessly.

 

“You do realize that two-thirds of this book is either walking or waiting, right? You’re gonna get bored,” I told her as we accepted our new clothes from Pelinneth. I was thankful, due to the amount of dust some of the tomes in the library had given off, until I saw that she had given both Natalie and I dresses. I sighed, guessing it was polite to wear formal wear to dinner, no matter how much I didn’t want to deal with something with this many layers. It did help that it was pretty, though obviously hastily hemmed to fit my shorter-than-elf-average stature. Natalie, I noticed enviously, was only a couple inches shorter than Pelinneth and probably hadn’t had her dress hemmed at all.

 

Still, we helped each other into the stupidly complicated clothing and emerged to find Olinniel waiting to escort us to dinner. Even on the way there, he was quizzing me about words and helping me form short sentences. Natalie wasn’t paying attention, which made me grit my teeth.

 

Even I forgot to listen to Olinniel, however, when we entered the hall where we were to be eating dinner. It was enormous, at least to me, with lofty ceilings, beautiful tapestry, and an absolutely  _ gorgeous _ view out a balcony, which was open to the rest of the room and whose roof was supported with gracefully fluted pillars.

 

The dwarves were already seated, Thorin with Elrond and Gandalf at a head table, and the rest of the dwarves among the other elves in the area. Olinniel led us to seats at the end of the column of dwarves and we began our meal.

 

Turning to the dwarf next to me, and said in halting Westron, “ _ Hello. My name _ … Ariel.  _ Thank for save from Wargs. _ ”

 

The dwarf grinned and held out a hand. When I offered mine, I was startled to see him grasp my forearm instead of shake my hand, but I returned the gesture. “ _ Bofur, at your service. ‘Twas no trouble at all, lass. Wargs are nasty business to get mixed up in. _ ” Olinniel leaned over and helped me with some of the words, but I was proud to have understood most of it myself, although maybe that was just Olinniel’s excellent linguistic planning.

 

I couldn’t really carry on a conversation, but Bofur helpfully named all of the dwarves and Bilbo for me, pointing them out one at a time. I had pretty much exhausted my entire supply of useful Westron for the moment, so I let Bofur turn back to Bombur and instead focussed my attention on the wonderful stew being served, trying to pick words I recognized out of the conversations around me.

 

The elves seemed much more jovial than I remembered them, but maybe that was book canon. I seemed to remember them being much sillier in Tolkein’s books than they were portrayed in the movies. The instrumental music being played was as beautiful and boring as I remembered, though, and I really wished someone would introduce them to the concept of a drum.

 

The meal concluded after a lot longer than I thought it was going to take and Pelinneth ushered Natalie and I away from the hall as we protested. “ _ Rest _ ,” she said firmly. “ _ Or you will be unwell again. _ ”

 

I was peeved to find out that Pelinneth was right, and that all the walking I had done that day had left my legs trembling, a nice counterpoint to the headache starting to form from my studies. She gave us both our vile potion and helped us undress before saying something that was probably “good night” in Westron and leaving. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and dreamed of a warm, booming voice, a fire, and the smell of iron.

 

_ “Ah, my apologies, my dears, I knew I forgot something. Now, I can only ease the path of young Ariel here, since I’m not bestowing a gift, but enhancing an ability that would develop naturally. You are not of my creation, but you can help those who are. Save the line of Durin from its fate. Weave a different pattern of destiny.” _

 

~*~

When I woke up in the morning, I felt as if my head were simultaneously filled with cotton and with cool mountain air. “ _ Ach, headrush _ ,” I muttered under my breath as I sat up, massaging my scalp under my hair. “ _ Natalie, did you have a weird dream last night _ ?” When I turned to see her, Natalie was staring at me like I’d just announced my undying love for naked hula-hooping. “ _ Natalie? Natalie, you’re starting to freak me out now, please don’t be broken. _ ”

 

“That’s… not English,” Natalie finally said. “That definitely sounds like Westron.”

 

“ _ What are you talking about? _ ” But even as I said it, I realized that the words coming out of my mouth were, in fact, not English. As soon as I concentrated on it, I felt my words melt back into my native language. “What the fuck.”

 

“Ok,  _ that _ was English, and I’d  _ also _ like to know  _ what the fuck _ ,” Natalie still looked like her eyes had aspirations of becoming large enough to have an orbit.

 

“Did you have a weird dream last night?” I asked, careful to make sure that I was speaking the right language.

 

Natalie looked like she wanted to lie, but then she whispered, “Save the line of Durin from its fate.”

 

“Weave a different pattern of destiny,” I replied in a whisper. “Shit. What the hell are we supposed to do? And also, how do I explain that, whoops, I can suddenly speak Westron now?”

 

“Well it sounded like… a god.”

 

“No. No way. How the hell could it have been a god?”

 

Natalie ticked off reasons on her fingers. “Powerful voice, shared dreams, the sudden and inexplicable ability to speak Westron?” Oh look, my sarcasm was rubbing off on her.

 

“Ok, fine, fine. So there’s some hinky shit going on here. That doesn’t mean it’s a  _ god _ .”

 

Natalie shrugged, picking at her blanket. “According to the books, the gods here are a lot more involved than on Earth. It’s possible.”

 

I groaned and flopped back down on my bed. “Sure, why not? Witches, teleportation, now gods. Sure, that’s fine. Completely reasonable.”

 

Natalie glared at me, but Pelinneth walked in before she had the chance to say anything.

 

“ _ Good morning Ariel and Natalie _ ,” she greeted us.

 

Deciding that I might as well jump right in and explain myself as I went along, I addressed her in perfect Westron. “ _ Good morning Pelinneth. How did you sleep? _ ”

 

Understandably, Pelinneth was startled. “ _ Well, thank you. I see your lessons progressed much faster than I expected. _ ”   
  


I rubbed the back of my neck and laughed uncomfortably. “ _ Ha ha, yeah. About that. _ ”

 

Explaining the situation to Pelinneth took much less time than I was expecting, but she appeared to take “well, this was probably a god’s fault” at face value and went to fetch Gandalf while Natalie and I ate our breakfasts.

 

Gandalf seemed very excited by the prospect of actually being able to talk to us, but held off on the questions while he escorted us back to Elrond, merely reassuring me that it would be fine.

 

For the second time in two days, Natalie and I found ourselves seated in front of Lord Elrond’s desk as he studied us curiously. This time, however, Thorin Oakenshield was present, along with the older dwarf that I was 90% sure was Balin. Thorin was brooding in the corner, as seemed to be his default setting. I studied him and found him returning the gaze with equal intensity. I don’t know what he saw, but I saw clothes cinched tighter than they were sewn, the pinched wariness of someone who’s gotten a lot of shit in their lifetime, and the determination of a man grasping at his last chance to rise from nothing. Lord Elrond spoke, drawing my attention from Broody McAngstyPants.

 

“ _ Welcome, Ariel and Natalie. I hear one of you had a gift bestowed upon you in the night? _ ”

 

“ _ That was me, my lord, _ ” I responded, bowing my head with respect.  _ “Natalie and I shared a dream with a being we believe to be a god who said that… um, I think it was a he? That he was merely enhancing an ability I would develop naturally rather than giving me a gift. Something about how we weren’t his creation. _ ”

 

“ _ Do you remember the voice of this god? _ ” asked Gandalf, leaning forward eagerly from his own chair by the window.

 

“ _ I- _ ” I paused. “ _ I don’t- _ Natalie, can you remember anything about how the god, or whatever, sounded?”

 

Natalie, straightening from her bored slump, frowned. “No, I- I can’t. I remember having an impression, but I don’t remember what it was like. It was a man?”

 

“Yeah, that’s all I remember too.  _ Neither of us can remember the voice of this god, only that it was male. We were charged to save the line of Durin from its fate.” _

 

Thorin growled and pushed away from the wall. “ _ And what do you know about the line of Durin, wench?”  _ Balin looked interested and also a little like he wanted to stuff his hand over Thorin’s mouth.

 

I returned his flinty gaze with equal venom, feeling Natalie reaching over casually to sketch something on the back of my hand with one finger, but refusing to be distracted. “ _ Enough to know that your quest is more than a fool’s errand, but less than a sure shot, Thorin Oakenshield. You require help, even if you are too proud to accept it. _ ” My voice came out with surprising force and authority and I slid my eyes to Natalie, who had a smug little smile on her face.

 

Gandalf rose from his chair and moved rapidly over to Natalie, studying her intently. “ _ The hand of Irmo, Master of Desires is on her, but she is not of the Ishtari nor even of the Maiar _ .” I translated quietly for a very nervous Natalie, because even though I was irritated with her, having Gandalf all up in your face was intimidating as hell.

 

“ _ What business have you with Lórien Dream-Master? _ ” Elrond asked, also inspecting Natalie.

 

“Um,” she squeaked, shrinking a bit now that everyone’s attention was on her. “I don’t- Ariel, tell them that I’ve never spoken with this guy!”

 

Gandalf leaned back, allowing Natalie some breathing room. “ _ Nevertheless, my dear, his hand has shaped your actions. It is from him that you draw your power _ .”

 

“I- what, no!” Natalie said when I translated. “I’m dedicated to Frigg!”

 

“ _ Regardless, that is not who has been influencing your actions or adding power to them,”  _ Gandalf said gently.  _ “I can recognize the will of a god when I see it.” _

 

“How can I be directed by a god that doesn’t exist in our world?” Natalie asked me quietly.

 

I shrugged. “Hell if I know. I don’t know anything about witchy stuff or about the background lore of Middle Earth. I was a main-series kinda girl.”

 

_ “What are you whispering about in your own language?” _ asked Thorin suspiciously. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword at his side, not quite threatening, but obviously ready to be if he felt he needed to.

 

_ “We’re trying to figure out what happened, Master Oakenshield _ , _ ”  _ I told him frostily.  _ “It is rather a shock to be pulled from one world to another _ .”

 

_ “What do you mean ‘another world,’ lass?” _ asked Balin, leaning forward from where he was trying to placate Thorin.

 

Glancing around, I saw the parchment scrap from yesterday on Lord Elrond’s desk and grabbed it, along with a quill. I quickly sketched a world map and then a close-up map of America. Putting a little star over the general area of Amherst, Massachusetts, I flipped the map around for them to see.   
  
_ “This is the world we’re from, Earth. Our country is called the United States of America and Natalie and I both attend the University of Massachusetts, here. Or, I guess, we used to _ .” I paused, still troubled by the thought, before continuing.  _ “Natalie is a Seer. Which is why I know, Thorin Oakenshield, that you and twelve other dwarves, along with Bilbo and Gandalf, have set out to reclaim Erebor.” _

 

I sat back and folded my arms, letting the (mostly true) truth bomb that I’d just dropped settle in before everyone exploded into yelling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might change as the girls shift to speaking more Westron, but for now, the Westron is in italics and the English is in normal font. Also, because it is going to be very tedious to read if I tell you that Ari translates everything said in a conversation between Natalie and anyone speaking English, you can assume that Ariel’s translating for everyone involved. Also, I know that it’s a little bit (a lotta bit) hand wavey to be like “oh, a god gave Ariel the power to speak Westron,” but honestly, it would be very boring to read about Ari learning Westron for three months and also leave a lot less time for honing other fun and useful skills.
> 
> I took some liberties with the Valar because I haven’t yet had the opportunity to read the Silmarillion or any of the other background info, so I’m working off of Wikis. I apologize for anything inaccurate.


End file.
